


Salsa

by helens78



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Food, M/M, Masturbation, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-11
Updated: 2005-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Duncan makes salsa, Methos tries to distract him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salsa

"I'm perfectly capable of helping out, you know."

"I know." Duncan gestured toward the couch with the tip of his knife. "Sit down."

"Surely there's something I can do."

"There is. Sprawl for me."

"Sprawl--?" Methos was halfway to doing it already. He frowned up at Duncan. "And how is my sprawling going to help with your cooking?"

"It'll keep you occupied. And it'll give me something to look at." Duncan grinned and kept slicing the tomatoes, removing the seeds before starting to dice them.

"You'd rather have my expertise strewn carelessly over the couch than in the kitchen helping you figure out how much pepper to add to the salsa?"

"I know how much pepper to add. _Sprawl._" Duncan pointed again.

Methos sighed and threw himself onto the couch, one leg canted up at the knee, the other stretched out and settled onto the couch's arm. "Better?" he asked.

"Much." The ingredients were mostly finished now; it was just a matter of throwing them all together and adding a bit of this, a bit of that, until everything tasted exactly the way Duncan wanted it to taste. The trouble with Methos was that his version of "a bit of this, a bit of that" generally turned into making a mess of the entire kitchen as he tried to remember any one of a thousand recipes from ancient Tunis or colonial Mexico. Having a know-it-all for a lover could be such a disadvantage.

The know-it-all in question was bored, too, something that became obvious when he tugged the hem of his sweater up so his stomach was showing and unbuttoned the top of his jeans. Duncan hissed as he lost his place with the scallions and ended up scraping the tip of his finger. Just a scratch, though; it was healed over within a few seconds. "What are you doing?" Duncan asked, trying to keep the interest out of his voice.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Methos mumbled, unzipping his jeans and sliding his hand into them.

"It looks like you're trying to distract me."

"Give the man a prize!"

"All this because I kicked you out of the kitchen."

"All this because I haven't been laid in at least four hours." Methos groaned and dug himself a little deeper into the couch. "Do you remember a lad named... oh, what was it... McCaffrey, I think. Aaron McCaffrey, do you remember him?"

"Mm. Bad swordsman. Good runner."

"Yeah. You know, Adam Pierson ran into him not a month ago, and he was very relieved Adam didn't want a fight."

"I hate it when you talk about yourself in the third person. You're still you under all those names."

"MacLeod, you have no idea what I am under all these names, so don't judge." Methos tilted his head back on the couch's arm, groaned softly. "There is a vast difference between the Methos who wanks on his lover's couch and the Adam Pierson who ran across Aaron McCaffrey in an alley outside a leather bar."

This time the knife sliced right into the swell of flesh under Duncan's thumb. Duncan cursed softly and headed to the sink to clean up. "What were you doing in an alley outside a leather bar?"

"Whatever comes naturally." Methos's hand was starting to move faster. "At any rate, the lad was more than a little lost, and he needed a lift home."

"And Adam Pierson provided."

"Of course. Adam's a nice guy."

"Not like you, then."

"Not at all. _Adam_ turned down a blowjob even though McCaffrey was quite sober and knew exactly what he was getting into."

"Good thing. Adam's lover is the jealous type."

Methos groaned. "Don't I know it. Luckily for you, Adam's the monogamous type."

"Is he, now?"

"Mm-hm. He was just thinking about sprawling all over one of your couches and jerking off while you were doing something that required concentration, like making salsa."

"What, nice-guy Adam? Adam wasn't more concerned about me my slicing my hand open?"

By now, though, Methos was stroking long and fast, eyes closed, head tilted back as he groaned with pleasure. "Mmm. _Mmm._ Mac--"

Duncan washed his hands quickly -- the deeper cut nicely healed -- and walked out of the kitchen, kneeling down next to Methos and gently tugging his hand away from his cock. Methos blinked his eyes open and narrowed them, but that didn't last long; Duncan caught Methos's cock in his hand and started stroking, the slow steady motions that always drove Methos out of his mind.

Now was no exception; Methos dug both hands into the couch cushions and thrust his hips up. "So good, _yes_, just like that--"

"Who's driving here?" Duncan asked, twisting his hand sharply.

"We're not in a car--" Methos arched up, trying to thrust his cock into Duncan's hand. "Mac, come on, be a good Boy Scout and quit teasing--"

"Hush for once." Duncan slid his free hand behind Methos's neck, pulling him up a little further and kissing him. Methos groaned into Duncan's mouth, and the kiss kept going, until Duncan was reasonably sure thoughts of talking were far from Methos's mind. He pushed Methos to his back again and gave him the last rough, squeezing strokes, and Methos came, eyes shut tight and throat arching. Duncan grinned and leaned forward, licking up that oh-so-elegant expanse of skin and humming softly. "That was beautiful."

Methos let out a few soft sounds, none of which remotely approached the threshold of being words, and nuzzled into Duncan's neck.

"Will you let me get back to dinner now?" Duncan whispered.

"If I must." Methos grabbed a handkerchief to clean up so he could get dressed again while Duncan went back to the kitchen and washed his hands off. Back on the couch, Methos turned on his side and raised both eyebrows. "You sure you don't need any help in there?"

"Dinner's fine--"

"I didn't mean _dinner._"

Duncan grinned. "Well... _maybe_..." He grinned. "Come here."

_-end-_


End file.
